


Hold Me Close

by dawon (orphan_account)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: M/M, as well as stressed wonho, but that's a given, if i wrote it right that is, just take it how you will, potential character death but also not really, some creepy vibes, this is actually a mess of a fic i am so very sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dawon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyunwoo moves in to his late aunt's old house, where he meets a lonely boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Close

**Author's Note:**

> very very unbeta'd + let's pretend minhyuk actually knows how to cook for the sake of fiction + i rlly don't know what this is i just know i wanted to write showhyuk + everybody’s ooc and it’s a real shitfest i recommend you do not read this slop at all

Hyunwoo’s just about handed the possession of the familiar house placed just outside of the town. It’s a little old fashioned, slabs of stones placed one upon the other as a puzzle of a construction housing a moderately spacious living arrangement he’s going to have to teach himself to call home.

 _It’s my sister’s,_ his mother had coaxed him over the phone a month ago. _I know it’s not much, but it’s better than the little cardboard box you’re living in now._

Hyunwoo had stayed silent then. He likes his cardboard box. But family always comes before himself, and his mother had always known that about him. 

_She really wanted you to have it,_ she’d said, melancholic, and Hyunwoo’s decision had already been made.

 

 

 _The housekeeper will arrive within a few weeks,_ a little paper reads, amongst other obvious instructions for Hyunwoo to maintain the house to condition. _He may ask to live with you. The final decision as to whether he may or may not is up to you. He is currently under a contract, so do not fire him until it expires. He will inform you when that time comes._

Hyunwoo doesn’t know who left him the vague note, but he assumes it was someone who knew his aunt well enough for her to trust them with leaving instructions. What he does know for sure is that it leaves him feeling a little wary, and if the shiver that runs up his spine every time he enters a room is anything to go by, then Hyunwoo might as well reach as far as to say it felt a bit haunted.

He doesn’t know what exactly it is about the house that seems off. He tries to fit the warm simple memories of him as a child running around the front yard in all the empty space before him, playing catch with his little cousins, but the thought of his aunt passing away within the same walls loom over him like a blanket of morbidity. He’s never been in a place quite so hostile and welcoming at the same time. 

Hyunwoo’s not one to feel any particular thrill in living with another person, but he really hopes his housekeeper arrives soon.

 

 

The first time Hyunwoo meets him, he's startled almost right out of his mind. Hyunwoo's in the living room, arm lounging over the side of the couch as he mindlessly flips through channels and hums nonchalantly to himself. 

He's just picked up his phone to text Hoseok back when a calm voice cuts through the busy silence of the running TV. 

“You have a wonderful singing voice.” 

The phone slips out of his grip as Hyunwoo leaps off the couch and turns behind him to spot the source, his grip on the TV remote hard enough to make his knuckles go white. It takes a moment for it to click, although how it occurs to him, Hyunwoo has no idea. He'd begun to think that his housekeeper would never show his face until payday rolled around, if even. 

The man - no, boy standing in front of him is blonde haired and bright eyed, slender but shorter than Hyunwoo, with mischievous lights dancing within his irises — he was attractive, to say the least. Hyunwoo had not expected him to be so young. He was around his age, possibly younger, and perhaps one of the most good-looking people Hyunwoo has ever met, and it leaves him wondering what contentment someone with a face like his could possibly find in something as monotonous and low-paying as housekeeping. 

The boy smiles at him, bright white teeth consuming his face etched into him, like he was born smiling.

“Hello, master,” the boy says, bowing deeply before looking back up at Hyunwoo as he was, smile intact. 

Hyunwoo blinks. _What?_

“U-uh.” Hyunwoo clears his throat. “Just Hyunwoo’s okay. I don't really own you, I'm not your, uh, master or anything...” The way that the other regards him makes him feel like anything but that. Hyunwoo rubs a hand over the back of his neck self consciously. It’s an odd situation and Hyunwoo’s not familiar with the feeling of not knowing what to do. 

They stare at each other for a while, until the other cracks a chuckle, and Hyunwoo finds himself untense slightly before offering an uneasy smile himself. 

“Well. Hello, Hyunwoo-ssi. I take it your stay so far has not been uncomfortable, no?” the other asks, eyes crinkling at the corners, looking like he knew the answer to a question Hyunwoo doesn't even know he wants to ask. It's a little unsettling, truth be told, but Hyunwoo had already found humor in the other boy. 

“Yeah. It was great,” Hyunwoo states blandly, Hyunwoo has always been one for eloquence. “Thanks for cleaning up after me,” he adds after a beat. 

“Oh, but today is only my first day. I haven’t done that yet,” the blonde says, his smile softening. “If there's anything you don't want me touching, please do let me know,” he adds, and his eyes, they seem– “I wouldn't want to breach your privacy.” 

Hyunwoo’s sure he has _something_ he's not comfortable with other people seeing, just for the sake of keeping it to himself if not sparing himself some embarrassment, but he finds himself slowly shaking his head despite. There's a sort of thin ice feeling to the blonde’s words, and Hyunwoo's too tentative to break it. 

There’s almost a slight relief in the other’s face at his reply, but then again, Hyunwoo wouldn’t gamble on it. “Well, then. That certainly does make my job much easier,” he states, smiling brightly.

He turns and makes his way to the kitchen, a bag of groceries Hyunwoo brought in earlier in tow that he completely forgot about. It was a usual occurrence for Hyunwoo, but he he didn't notice it was in the other's hand up until now. “I'll make us dinner, then, if that's okay?” the blonde asks. He doesn't wait for Hyunwoo to answer. 

“Wait,” Hyunwoo calls, and the other stops in his tracks. He slowly turns around to look at him with a curious eye. 

“I don't even know your name...” Hyunwoo trails off, mentally kicking himself for not asking earlier. If all goes right, then the blonde might actually be living with him.

“Lee Minhyuk,” the blonde replies, fixating him with an unreadable look that has Hyunwoo almost regretting his query before turning around. “Dinner will be ready soon,” he says, putting the groceries away, uncannily familiar with everything. _Housekeeper,_ Hyunwoo reminds himself. “In the meantime, you should rest.”

Hyunwoo should protest, but he suddenly feels a fatigue so deep down to his bones, he doesn't deny it and makes his way to the bedroom. He doesn't bother changing out of his clothes, simply choosing to curl under the comforter and passing out within a span of a minute. 

 

Hyunwoo wakes to the feeling of slender fingers running through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he slowly begins to escape slumber’s grip, the strings of sleep still tied to his consciousness. The feeling is soothing; Hyunwoo almost finds himself slipping back into his dreams, but he's never been one to doze more than what was necessary. He slowly inches his eyes open. 

“Welcome back to the living, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Minhyuk's humorous voice filters into his sleep-addled brain. His vision begins to come into focus and he spots Minhyuk sitting beside him on the bed, looking down at him with a strange glint in his eye. It reminds Hyunwoo of his mother when she knew exactly where he hid something of her belonging as a little child, but wouldn't tell him that she knew so Hyunwoo would ultimately give it up to her before he drowned in his own self-procured guilt. 

_This should be weird,_ his brain supplies helpfully, but Hyunwoo wants to reach up and entangle his fingers with the blonde’s, but before Hyunwoo can even finish his train of thought, Minhyuk’s already drawing back and getting up to leave the room. 

“Dinner is ready,” Minhyuk throws over his shoulder as he passes through the doorway, and it feels as if he never gave Hyunwoo a massage in the first place. 

_Get yourself together, Son Hyunwoo._ That was way too weird of a thing to do to someone he’s met on the first day. He rubs a palm over his eyes before slowly getting up to follow. 

A very appealing aroma of beef hits his nose as soon as he enters the kitchen, and Hyunwoo hadn't even realized that he was so hungry until now. Minhyuk pulls out a chair and motions for him to sit, smiling again, and if Hyunwoo had any ounce of refusal within him, it’s gone by the time he slips into the chair. 

There was only a plate for one. “Aren't you gonna eat too?” Hyunwoo asks as politely as before his stomach rumbles. Minhyuk chuckles, and it's beautiful, and Minhyuk is beautiful. Hyunwoo's already forgotten what he's asked until Minhyuk says no. 

“I guess I'm just not hungry,” he says, the lights dancing within his eyes as he tilts his head to the side, and Hyunwoo's staring, he knows, but he can't help it. 

“You should tell me how it is,” Minhyuk tells him, gesturing to the beef stew. “I don't get to cook for others very often.”

Hyunwoo knows there's a question within that statement that he'd like to ask, because Minhyuk seems like the type to run on mysteries, always hot and cold, but it's as if the words evaporate within his palm as soon as he can get a grip on any train of thought. He stares at Minhyuk for a moment, finding himself on the crossroad between pure disbelief and absolute fascination, before he picks up a fork to dig in. The action seems to satisfy the blonde. 

 

Their - Hyunwoo's dinner is finished quickly and mostly in silence. Minhyuk sat across from him the entire time, asking him general questions like where he worked, what he did, how the food was. It felt normal and leaves Hyunwoo wondering whether he was too quick to judge before. 

He's in his room, getting ready to head to bed, when his phone notifies him of a text. Glancing over in the midst of taking a leg out of his pants, he suddenly remembers leaving Hoseok hanging and curses under his breath. 

He's right – there's four unread texts, all from Shin Hoseok, the most current one sent at 10:37 PM. 

Hyunwoo decides to scrap it and calls him directly. 

“ _Hello._ ” 

It's Hoseok’s monotonous voice, and Hyunwoo recognizes it from all the times Changkyun cracks ill-timed jokes, or when someone takes one of his expensive napkins and won’t admit to it, except this time except it's completely different because he's the victim. 

“Hey?” Hyunwoo asks. Says. Greets. He’s not sure. 

“ _You know how much I hate it when people r-bomb me, man,_ ” Hoseok says and Hyunwoo instinctively throws a hand over the nape of his neck, because yeah, he did know. It was high up on the list of the very few things that ticked Shin Hoseok off to no end.

“Sorry, sorry. The housekeeper came and I just got really distracted,” Hyunwoo apologizes. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Hoseok sighs, but lets it go. “ _Anyway, we have an invitation to the BB. All of us. We have to pick a leader,_ ” he explains.

“Wait, the BB? Really?” Hyunwoo’s surprised. The BB was a pretty big event. He hadn’t expected for them to be invited so early on into the formation of their team.

“ _Yes, Hyunwoo. The BB. And we need an official leader,_ ” continues Hoseok. “ _That’s basically the only requirement we have so far. Well, other than performing beyond expectations._ Hoseok sighs again.

“We’ll be fine, Hoseok,” Hyunwoo assures him. Hoseok doesn’t need to say it out loud for Hyunwoo to realize how much he’s stressing over it. “So, what’s the plan?”

“ _Pick a leader,_ ” Hoseok repeats. “ _Hyunwoo, we can’t move forward if we don’t pick a leader._ ”

Hyunwoo takes a moment to lie back on his bed, but before he can say anything, Hoseok cuts him off.

“ _It can’t be me, Hyunwoo,_ ” Hoseok says, softer this time, and Hyunwoo frowns. Hoseok is their best bet. He already fills in the unofficial role all the time anyway. “ _I was wondering if you could step up to it._ ”

“Me? Why?” 

“ _I just– I’m not ready,_ ” Hoseok explains. “ _I don’t think I can do it._ ”

“Hoseok–”

“ _Just do it, okay?_ ” Hoseok cuts in. Hyunwoo purses his lips.

“ _You know I’d never ask you to do it unless I absolutely needed it, right?_ ” Hoseok says, softer this time, and Hyunwoo releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Yeah,” he says, after a beat. And that was that.

 

 

Weeks pass. 

Hyunwoo and Hoseok and the rest of their team prepare for the annual event, and Minhyuk and he fall into a pattern, and Minhyuk and he grow closer so fast in ways that he can’t really explain it. 

He just knows that sometimes Minhyuk rests his head on his shoulder, and the only thing he wants to do is lean down so it’s easier for him to lean against Hyunwoo. And when Minhyuk sits with him during meals and rests his chin in his palms, Hyunwoo offers him a share, and Minhyuk smiles so shyly, Hyunwoo feels his blood pound against the walls of his heart. And when he smiles at Minhyuk, Minhyuk tells him to never stop.

There are moments he feels a strange awareness of his new life after moving into his aunt’s. It manifests itself during the night, when he stays up staring at the ceiling, feeling like there’s a big hollow in the middle of his chest. 

“You’re even quieter these days,” Hoseok comments offhandedly one day when they’re having lunch together, pinning him with a look.

Hyunwoo avoids his gaze, chewing on his sandwich. It’s good, but he misses the ones Minhyuk makes him for on Friday afternoons, when he’s home. 

“I’ve just got nothing to say,” Hyunwoo says, after thinking about it for a bit. And yet with everything that’s going on, Hyunwoo finds, that it rings true. 

 

 

“So. Shownu, huh?” the blonde asks him out of the blue. They're together in the living room, watching reruns of old Korean dramas and Minhyuk's draped across the couch with his head resting on Hyunwoo's lap. Late November brings a new chill to the house, and Minhyuk lies dwarfed in Hyunwoo's favourite sweater, palms curling into his fists like paws. 

Hyunwoo looks down to see the younger watching him intently, a weird look in his eyes, and Hyunwoo almost feels guilty for never having brought it up before. 

“Yeah…” he trails off again, nervous and feeling the need to explain himself even though he knew he really had no reason to. “Sorry, it just never came up.”

Minhyuk looks at him for a second longer, before turning away to look at the TV screen. “I saw the text from your coworker. Hoseok, I'm assuming he's called,” he says. “I found your business card earlier, and I put two and two together.”

Hyunwoo had business cards kept in only one place outside of his workplace. “You looked in my wallet?” he asks. He should be bewildered, except he feels more caught than anything. 

“It came upon my hands,” Minhyuk says, turning back to look at him again, his eyes steely, and it feels like a punch to the gut. “We've agreed that you had nothing of your possessions that you didn't want me touching, have we not?”

“Uh – yes,” Hyunwoo wants to say more, but he finds himself neck-deep in guilt. He doesn't know what it could have been, but he needs to say it. Like he needs to prove something to the blonde. Like he needs to prove himself. 

“Then I'm sure you don't mind me learning this information about you,” Minhyuk cuts through that erratic thought string. 

“I – no,” Hyunwoo sighs. “I guess not.”

“Hmm,” Minhyuk hums and looks away again, seemingly pleased with the settlement, and Hyunwoo’s still lost, but the guilt begins to dissipate. 

“This Hoseok person —” he pauses. “Are you close to them?” Minhyuk inquires almost nonchalantly, but Hyunwoo recognizes by now that nothing about Minhyuk is nonchalant. Everything is important, everything a vital piece of information to be tucked away deep within the corners of his mind, to be brought up when you least expect it. 

“He's an old friend of mine. We're pretty close,” Hyunwoo provides, the truth the best he can offer. “We've been working together for a really long time.”

There's silence for a little, and Hyunwoo's just getting into the plot of a drama for once. The protagonist had just finished beating up the antagonist and left him on the ground, but the antagonist slowly reaches for a gun hidden in his jacket. 

“Have you fucked him?” Minhyuk asks suddenly, as if he was discussing everyday mundane conversation like the news. 

“What?” Hyunwoo's brain can't tell if he's processing the question right. 

“Did you fuck him?” Minhyuk repeats, turning to look him straight in the eyes, and Hyunwoo's at a loss for words, a deer caught in the headlights. “Or has he fucked you?” Minhyuk adds on, just as nonchalant. 

“No, I –” Hyunwoo sputters in what seems like the first time in a long time. “We're not– we're not like that. He's like a brother, and he's just. He's not my type,” Hyunwoo scrambles to put his reasoning together. 

There's another beat of silence as Minhyuk's eyes train on the TV. The antagonist slowly lifts his gun and aims for the protagonist’s back. 

“So is there someone who is your type?” the blonde then continues, looking back at him. Hyunwoo frowns and squirms under the heavy gaze, another first in a long time. He's running into walls constantly today. 

“No, there's no one,” he manages to reply, and it comes out slightly choked. 

Minhyuk’s face relaxes a fraction, the ice within his eyes melting away, and Hyunwoo feels like he can breathe again. 

“Good,” Minhyuk states, and there's silence for a little while as they stare at each other and Hyunwoo's unsurprisingly talked into silence. _Bang!_ the protagonist crumbles to the ground from a bullet in his back. 

“Don't let anyone else stand in your eyes,” Minhyuk whispers. He sounds needy, and there's a coil tightening deep within Hyunwoo's gut, the urge to fix something he doesn't know if he can. 

Blood seeps through the protagonist’s clothing as he lies on the ground, struggling to draw breaths. 

“There shouldn't be anyone in your eyes but me,” Minhyuk continues, voice tender, and Hyunwoo finds himself nodding along. 

He can't seem to see anyone these days except for Minhyuk. 

 

 

It’s the day of the first snow, when Minhyuk sits by the window watching the snowfall. The TV’s on, but it’s muted and neglected, Hyunwoo’s gaze fixed on the blonde before him. 

Minhyuk is so pretty, Hyunwoo can’t count the number of times he’s caught himself staring at the other boy, subconsciously biting his lips and fighting hard to not let his thoughts go down ways he doesn’t like to let himself think about.

But sometimes, sometimes it slips out between the cracks of Hyunwoo’s self-control, the very one he’s spent years and years and years manifesting into something he was so sure he’d mastered to a T. Sometimes, late at night, when he thinks he’s alone, all by himself, he lets his hand travel further down his waist, lets the walls of his pride slip away beneath his urges as he closes his eyes. Sometimes, he gets himself off to the thought of blonde hair running between his fingers, his hands pulling hard enough for it to hurt in all the right ways, making all the right sounds. And when he reaches his high, voice caught on a name he’s never really able to mutter out loud to himself, he thinks he can feel twinkling mischievous eyes on him as he cries out, something that strikes the spot between a prayer and a curse. Sometimes, he lets the guilt consume him until he suffocates and all he can breathe in is the smell of lust and self-loathing.

Hyunwoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Minhyuk is still fixated on the snow outside, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, and Hyunwoo dreams of soft, pristine snow later that night.

 

 

 _You have seventeen unread messages,_ his phone reads to him. They’re all from Hoseok, save for two that read from Changkyun, which might as well be Hoseok, because he and Hyunwoo never texted unless Hoseok told them to. It’s only then that Hyunwoo is suddenly struck by the fact that he had completely forgotten to go to work the past two days. 

Hoseok picks up on the first ring.

“ _What the fuck, Hyunwoo?_ ” Hoseok says before Hyunwoo can even think of saying hello. It startles him, because he’s never heard Hoseok swear. It’s probably not a good sign for him.

“Hi,” he says, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say.

“ _Hi? Hi?! That’s all you have to say to me?_ ” Hoseok exclaims, and Hyunwoo stays silent, because he deserves it. 

“ _Hyunwoo, we have_ one _week before the event. Where the fuck are you?_ ” Hoseok is yelling at this point, and Hyunwoo doesn’t know the right words to say, because Hoseok never yells either.

“ _God,_ ” Hoseok says, muffled. Hyunwoo guesses it’s from him rubbing his palm down his face, something he’s only known to do when he’s stressed out beyond usual. 

“Sorry I–” Hyunwoo clears his throat awkwardly. “I got caught up in something.”

“ _If you didn’t call me back by tomorrow, I was gonna call the cops,_ ” Hoseok says, a bit more worried this time. “ _We’re already a bit behind. You’re our leader, Hyunwoo._ ”

Hyunwoo bites back the fact that he had never wanted to be in charge in the first place. Hoseok doesn’t know that, and it doesn’t seem like the right time to be dropping that on him.

So, instead, he apologizes again and again until Hoseok calms down, then promises to show up tomorrow before he can ask again why he was away in the first place.

 

 

Minhyuk slips in beside him under the covers half an hour after he goes to bed that night. It feels as natural as everything else they’d done up until now, so Hyunwoo doesn’t pretend to be asleep, only wraps his arms around Minhyuk’s waist and lets himself drift off for a bit, before he hears Minhyuk say something so quiet he doesn’t quite catch it.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t go,” Minhyuk whispers, a bit louder, but still quiet, and Hyunwoo can’t help but look questioningly into his eyes.

“Don’t leave me in the morning.”

There’s barely any light in the room, but the urgency in Minhyuk’s eyes are so hypnotic, he finds himself nodding. Minhyuk smiles, pleased, and rests his head on his chest while Hyunwoo lets sleep overtake him.

 

 

He finds himself at the balcony the next day, Minhyuk’s fingers intertwined with his. They don’t say anything to each other, but recently it felt like there wasn’t much to be said between them at all. There was an unseen force pulling Hyunwoo, and he didn’t fight it anymore, letting it take him where it wanted.

He can’t find it in himself to acknowledge anything around him but the morning wind blowing through Minhyuk’s hair. Hyunwoo’s been finding himself more and more caught up in moments where he doesn’t see anything around him but the boy in front him, and he doesn’t even think about letting those moments go.

And right now, as Minhyuk’s gaze turn to fix on him, Hyunwoo finds himself trapped willingly within it with a reach so firm, he clings on to it like a lifeline. Right now, as Minhyuk closes his eyes and hums, Hyunwoo reaches up and threads his fingers through the other’s hair. The tendrils feel soft within his hand, and suddenly he can’t help but think of all the vulgar things he’s imagined involving the very locks within his palm. Hyunwoo’s breath hitches; the way the blonde’s head is tilted makes his jawline stick out so sharp, Hyunwoo thinks if he were to run his index across it, his finger would come away with blood. 

He begins to slowly span his fingers in the blonde’s hair, and Minhyuk’s jaw drops open slightly at the soothing sensation, breaths pouring out heavier by each one. And once again, Hyunwoo thinks, Minhyuk is so beautiful, so beautiful he wants to lock him away for his own safekeeping, so no other eyes could capture the way Minhyuk’s eyelashes flutter the way it does now, pink lips falling open so tenderly, it makes Hyunwoo writhe in awe inside.

Hyunwoo's fingers stop massaging Minhyuk’s head, but he can’t seem to let his hand fall away and it stays there, fingers entrapped within Minhyuk’s beautiful sunshine locks, and it feels a little bit like that’s how it should have always been, should always be. And when Minhyuk turns to him with half lidded eyes, the lust in them sparking the very fire Hyunwoo thought burned only within his gut, he doesn’t stop his other hand from slipping behind Minhyuk’s waist, bringing him flush against his own chest.

The way that their mouths meet isn’t rough, but it’s desperate, and Hyunwoo can feel the weeks of pent-up urges falling through his lips in a clash of wants and needs. Minhyuk’s lips are soft, softer than he expects, and it's like he's drowning in the need to get more and more and _more_. He presses into Minhyuk, the space between them too big and he's not close enough, always farther than he wants to be. 

Minhyuk wraps his arms around Hyunwoo's neck and tilts his head so Hyunwoo has better access to his mouth, and Hyunwoo's struck by how much he’s craved, for days, for months, how much he craves even in this very moment with his body now flush against the blonde’s. 

A trail of clothes lead their way into the bedroom, and Hyunwoo drops Minhyuk on the bed softly, mouth still locked onto his. He only stops to take off his dog tags, and it’s not long before it’s on the ground and he’s on the bed, hovering over Minhyuk, pressing kisses down his lips, his chin, his jaw, the column of his throat, the space between his collarbones. He trails down further and further, while Minhyuk grabs onto his biceps and wraps his legs around Hyunwoo.

He stops at Minhyuk’s navel, and looks up to see the expression on Minhyuk’s face. Hyunwoo’s breath catches; his head is thrown back, eyes closed. He’s breathing heavily and the exposed skin of his neck looks like porcelain in the dim light seeping through the curtains in the bedroom. Hyunwoo can’t help but latch onto it again, and Minhyuk’s grip on his arms grow tighter.

They make love to a slow rhythm set in the soft sway of the breeze blowing through the window, hips pressed against hips, skin pressed against skin. It’s slower than Hyunwoo had dreamed of for nights and nights, but the tender reality that played before him felt fulfilling, and he felt the hollow in his heart begin to close.

Minhyuk clings onto him tightly afterwards, his head fit in the space between Hyunwoo’s neck and shoulder, his arm draped around Hyunwoo’s chest.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, and this time, Hyunwoo heard it clearly, the words ringing in his head again and again like a melody made in the tune of his thoughts.

 _Don’t go,_ it sang, and Hyunwoo held Minhyuk closer to him. 

_Never,_ he replied. It was the very last thought he had before he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

 

 

They find him in his bed, cold, his pulse beating slower and slower with each passing minute.

Hoseok cries as he lands his eyes on him. He doesn’t notice the smile on Hyunwoo’s face.


End file.
